The Game
by jkdg3461
Summary: ONESHOT. A pregnant Hermione has the perfect life with Harry... Or does she? GASP! NO SLASH! Dedicated to Shealtiel.


**THE GAME**

**A/N: **_**Dammit**_**, I have ****seriously**** got to stop accepting requests from Shealtiel (Saralisa). Number three in the **_**Saralisa's Prompts**_** category, and this is THE LAST ONE. I swear, NO MORE.**

**For now, anyway…**

**xoxoxoxo**

_Love is a game, and we are all players._

_Your fate depends on the roll of a dice, the spin of a wheel, a flash of cards, pure luck._

Harry froze in the doorway, keys clenched in his hand. Two people sat on the couch with their backs to him, facing the fireplace.

"He said… He said he wasn't ready to be a father," Hermione said softly, lifting a glass filled with amber liquid to her lips.

"You shouldn't be drinking that," Draco replied, taking the glass from her hands and setting it on the floor out of her reach.

"You shouldn't be here," Hermione said. "But you're here. Why shouldn't I drink? I've got all the reason in the world to drown my sorrows, and you're… You're just…"

"Hermione," Draco whispered. "If you drink that, I swear, you'll regret it later."

"'Drunk' and 'stupid' often feature in the same sentence," Hermione said matter-of-factly, twisting the band on her left ring finger. "I wasn't drunk when I accepted him, but I certainly was stupid."

"Is that how you see it?" Draco laughed softly.

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "If he's not ready to be a father, what's the whole point in staying with him?"

"He loves you," Draco reminded her, and Harry wanted to punch him for being so reassuring. "Don't you remember? He killed Voldemort so he could live for you. He was the one who held you at Weasley's funeral; he's the one who wiped away your tears as your best friend was buried, he's the one who made you smile. He's the one that _married_ you."

"But do I love him?" Hermione whispered, swallowing her tears.

"Yes, you do," Draco said.

"Then why are you here?"

"I… I don't know. Hermione, I made your life hell for six years, and I'm not about to re-enter it. You're happy with him, you're –"

"Am I?" Hermione whispered hoarsely. "Has anyone ever really bothered to ask me if I'm really happy with Harry?"

"You married him," Draco said, laying a hand on her arm. "You're carrying his child inside you, Hermione. I guess we all just assumed that… That you loved him."

"As a friend, yes," Hermione said, pushing his hand off her arm. "But you, Draco, you make me happy, you –"

"_I_ am not going to get involved in this," Draco interrupted. "I'm not married to you, and I highly doubt Harry would be happy if I proposed to you here and now."

"Would he even care?" Hermione snapped. "Or would he be too busy being Savior of the Wizarding World to be the person he needs to be for me? Everyone sees him as Saint bloody Potter, but when will anyone look behind him and see me? When is he going to stop being the hero and just be my husband; the father of his own unborn child?" She turned to Draco, tears in her eyes. "Please, Draco, only you can end this."

"Hermione," Draco said, and he sounded on the verge of tears too. "I can't get involved with you. The public will lynch me, I'll be doubly disowned, and Harry will kill me about fifty times, then resurrect me and torture me to death."

"He wouldn't care," Hermione said, leaning her head on Draco's shoulder, the firelight casting an eerie glow around her hair. "He doesn't, he never did, and never will care, least of all about me."

She turned and cupped Draco's chin in her hand. He didn't flinch away, like he should've.

"He doesn't care," she whispered. "He doesn't love me, and I don't love him. I love you, Draco, only you."

"Hermione," Draco said. "You can't… Don't… Please…"

The rest of his unfinished sentence was drowned out by Hermione's mouth meeting his, and it was perfection. His hands moved to her hair, and her hands moved around his shoulders.

They didn't even separate when Harry whispered, "I hate you," and left, slamming the door behind him. He pulled his glove off his left hand and removed the dull band from his finger and threw it.

His wedding ring bounced off the front door and landed on the snowy ground with a dull _clink_ as he shut the car door. There, he drove away from the only woman he had ever really loved, as she kissed the only man he had ever really hated.

_Love is a game, and you, Harry James Potter, have just lost._


End file.
